


Oh My Gosh, They Made Truffles

by UAs_Fics



Series: Creek Week 2019 [4]
Category: South Park
Genre: College AU, Creek Week 2019, Holiday Setting, M/M, One-Shot, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-21
Packaged: 2020-12-27 16:50:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21122084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UAs_Fics/pseuds/UAs_Fics
Summary: Craig's college roommate Tweek is an odd duck, but when he brings home some holiday goodies from work, a real friendship starts to bloom over chocolate truffles.





	Oh My Gosh, They Made Truffles

**Author's Note:**

> For creek-week 2019. Day 1.  
Ok so confession. I wrote the first eeeeeh fourth for the Creek Crews Secret Santa exchange last year but got a better idea for [ my gift.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140445) But it fit the roommate prompt so this seemed like a good excuse to finish it.

Tweek was, as Craig's grandmother would have put it, an odd duck. Sure, he never caused a bother for Craig when either of them brought friends over and cleaned up after himself, but for all that, Tweek was still strange.

He mumbled to himself and paced the living room at night. He guzzled down more black coffee than Craig had ever seen a single person drink. He twitched and fidgeted, even when he tried to sit still at the table.

An odd duck who probably did drugs, that's what Craig had decided Tweek was.

Well, he didn't _know_ if Tweek was using anything; it could actually be from all the caffeine he ingested building up in his system.

It didn't matter, though, because in every other way Tweek was Craig's ideal roommate. If he went and ratted Tweek out to the school housing department, who knows what kind of person he would end up with.

Craig did not want a repeat of his last noisy roommate, so he kept his mouth shut and went about his business.

Stripe pressed his nose against Craig's ankle as he zoned out. He blinked out of his thoughts and looked down.

The guinea pig stared up at him with big, brown eyes. With a smile, Craig picked him up to hold in his lap.

Stripe was why Craig had worked so hard to be allowed in the school's off campus housing. The dorms on campus didn't allow pets, no matter how well trained and smart they were, but The Lofts did.

The Lofts used to be a small ritzy hotel from when the city attempted to 'modernize' itself, only to end up abandoning the project a few years later. The hotel would have been left to crumble away if the school hadn't bought it up and repurposing the whole building into student dorms.

Being granted a room at The Lofts had been Craig's dream since his first campus tour. The thought of working on his computer science degree with Stripe sitting comfortably beside him made Craig strive to keep his grades up and his nose out of trouble--not that either of those were necessarily difficult for him in the first place.

With Stripe nestled comfortably in his lap, Craig continued with his school work.

He finished up the last problem right before the front door opened. Craig glanced up at the clock on his computer. Six-forty, so it had to be Tweek coming home.

Craig shut his notebook and leaned back in his chair, disturbing Stripe in the process. After he gave a squeak of annoyance, Craig rested a hand on Stripe's head to soothe him.

Knocking came from the door, causing Craig to raise an eyebrow. Tweek usually left him alone when he came back from work. 

"Come in," he called.

The door creaked open and Tweek poked his head in.

"Hey," Tweek took a step in when Craig nodded for him to do so. A plastic Wal-Mart bag hung from his fingers.

Tweek held up the bag. "One of the regulars at the store made me gave me a gift since the holidays are coming up. It's some sweets." He pulled out a shallow dish covered in tin foil. "You want some? The truffles are really good."

"Oh, sure," Craig stood, holding Stripe to his chest, then walked over to Tweek. Tweek pried off the foil, revealing an array of goodies: chocolate truffles, peanut butter bites, cookies in fun holiday shapes, and divinity. 

Craig took one of the peanut butter bites and popped it in his mouth. Tweek winced. Craig knew it bothered the hell out of him that he didn't wash his hands after holding Stripe, but this time Tweek kept his complaints to himself.

"Shit, dude, these are great."

"You can take a few more if you want," Tweek prompted, and Craig happily obliged. He snagged two of each kind of sweet, setting them on his desk.

"Thanks, dude." Craig smiled at him and Tweek began to squirm like he usually did. 

"N-no problem. She also gave me a jar of glass candy, and you can have it if you want. I don't want to take the risk of the candy ripping my mouth when I eat it." He shuddered. "It's on the table in the living room."

Craig didn't know if he liked glass candy or not, but he replied, "Ok, cool, thanks." anyway. If it tasted like shit, he could always pawn it off on Clyde. Clyde would eat anything if it had sugar in it.

Tweek covered the dish back up and turned to walk out, but paused. He swallowed then asked, "Hey, um, what are you doing for the break? Are you going home?"

Craig raised an eyebrow. They didn't talk much about their personal lives. If it didn't have to do with school or their rooming situation, then it never came up.

"I'm staying here. My family lives in the next state, so I'll just video chat with them on Christmas Eve," Craig explained. "You?"

"Oh, my family lives in town so I'll just go stay with them," Tweek tapped against the foil. 

"Wait," Craig furrowed his brows, "if your family lives in town, why are you using school housing?"

Tweek's fingers broke through the foil wrapping. "I'm going to leave this on the table in the living room, too. Help yourself." 

Tweek scurried out of the room.

Craig picked up another cookie to nibble. Had he said something wrong? Well, it didn't matter. Tweek's life was none of his business.

* * *

Finals week came and went in a blur. Craig had never been so happy to walk to flights of stairs to his loft. He pushed open the door and tossed his bag onto the old couch.

Their living room wasn't much, both in size and what it held. Like the rest of the apartments, their living room was a rectangular area that with the doors to their rooms on either side of the back wall

The couch had been there when Craig moved in. The collapsible, white plastic table and mismatched chairs were his. As was the mini-fridge his friend, Token, had gifted him. The small TV on a milk crate was Tweek's, so was the coffee pot sitting on the shelf. 

The microwave next to the coffee pot — which they technically weren't supposed to have — had belonged to Craig's last roommate. Eric never asked for it back, and Craig didn't plan to give it up if he did. It was such a time saver to make ramen and heat up mini pizzas in their room instead of walking all the way down the hall to use the communal microwave.

Craig walked around the couch to fetch a soda. He'd taken to hiding the boxes around for whenever Clyde came barging in. He loved his friend, but Clyde could down a whole twelve pack over the course of an hour.

As he cracked open the knock-off brand Pepsi, Craig snagged a truffle from the shallow dish. At some point, the foil went missing, and neither Tweek nor he cared to replace it. 

Craig wondered if making truffles was particularly difficult as he leaned against the table. 

Before he could pull up his phone to google the answer to his question, the door opened and Tweek came in. He held a box in his hands. 

"What's that?" Craig asked.

Tweek jumped in surprise. His box fell forward out of his grip. With a gasp, he dove to grab it, but Craig beat him to it.

Setting his drink down, Craig raised an eyebrow. 'Tweek Bro's premium blend' was printed on the side. The box wasn't taped shut, so he peeked in.

"Ornaments?" Craig raised an eyebrow as he took a glittery, plastic bulb from inside.

Tweek stammered, "Oh, ah, ah, it's, I-I was--ACK!" He rubbed his arm. "They're to, you know, decorate! My parents were going to toss them, but I took them instead. I was just going to hang them from my window but if you'd like to, we can hang them around here, too."

Craig set the box on the table. The bulb twisted on its golden string. Some of the glitter had been worn off over the years, leaving bare silver patches in the sapphire blue. 

"Sure, why not? It'll be festive." Craig stepped towards the shelf and hung the bulb off the handle of the coffee pot. "There. I'm already feeling jollier."

Tweek fixed him with a look, probably trying to puzzle out of Craig was joking or not, before nodding.

He opened the box completely, carefully setting the fragile bobbles onto the table. He then took a folded sweater from the box. 

"My early Christmas gift from my parents," Tweek said when Craig eyed the thick navy sweater. He reached back into the box.

"There are some, uh, garlands in here too. Or are they called tassels? Those shiny string things? Um, these." He pulled some silver tinsel from the box.

"Tinsel garland," Craig said.

"Oh, this is what tinsel is?" Tweek turned it over in his hand. "Well, we can hang it around." 

Craig took a small line of golden garland from the box then dropped it around his shoulders. Tweek snickered.

"You look like one of those old ladies with the feather boas." Tweek began to empty the box. "You just need one of those long cigarette holders."

Craig took an icicle tree ornament and held it jokingly to his lips. "Oh, officer, I don't know what happened to my husband. I'm _so_ distressed at my new wealthy widow statues."

Tweek chuckled into his hand and flashed a grin at Craig. He'd never really spent that much time around Tweek like this, and for the first time, he noticed just how cute his roommate was.

Prompted by Tweek's smile, Craig dramatically threw himself on the couch with his hand over his eyes. 

"I will never find love again! I shall spend the rest of my days in grieving with my good, _good womanly_ friend in a far of secluded manor house!" He peeked over his arm at Tweek.

Tweek laughed, showing off his teeth, until he snorted. 

"Oh, shit, man, that was great." Tweek wrapped his garland around his wrist. "I wonder how many old widows were just lesbians."

"I can't tell you the answer to that, but," Craig held himself up on his elbows, "as a gay man, I can say if I lived in the in the nineteen-tens and was rich, I'd definitely have my wife sent to live in her own villa with her lover while I stay in the main mansion with mine. It'd be easier for her than having me killed."

Tweek stared at him for a moment.

"You're gay?" 

"Yeah? I told you that, right?" Craig swung his legs to the floor. "You must have forgotten."

Tweek turned back to the now-empty box. "I wouldn't have forgotten," he muttered. 

"What is that a problem?" Craig frowned. If he found out his roommate was a homophobe, Craig would have no issues ratting Tweek's maybe drug use to the school. 

He really hoped he wouldn't have to, though. Not just because he didn't know what roommate he would end up with if Tweek left, but because he did like Tweek, even if he was only starting to know him. Finding out his roommate hated gay people would be the most disappointing start to his holiday break.

Tweek spun around, his face flushed. "I just...I wonder if they did that intentionally. Letting both of us room together."

"What? Would that be weird or something?" Craig stood.

"Since it's twenty - nineteen, I guess not." Tweek fiddled with the buttons on his shirt. "I'm just used to people trying to push me towards men to date. I guess I'm paranoid."

Craig's eyebrows rose up. "Wait, you're gay too?"

Tweek nodded, his body going tense. "Um, yes. Don't, like, make this weird, man. I don't tell people just for this reason."

"I promised not to make it weird," Craig vowed, crossing the icicle over his chest. "Do you have tacks or something. We can hang these from a string."

Tweek relaxed. 

"I do," he replied, spinning around to head towards his room. Craig watched his back, suddenly a little more aware of how soft and cuddly his roommate looked.

In the end, they didn't have enough tacks, so most of the garlands were draped over the couch and TV. 

Craig carefully stepped back from his creation, a garland in the shape of a penis on the wall. He only had a small hand full of tacks to use, but he made it work.

Tweek stepped next to him, eyebrow raised. Craig grinned, presenting his creation with a flourish. Tweek nodded approvingly.

"I like it. Very classy," Tweek joked.

"Thank you." Craig walked towards the table to snag the last truffle. He took a bite, then asked around the chocolatey goodness, "Do you think that customer of yours will give you the recipe for these truffles? They're good."

"I know a truffle recipe," he said. "It might not be what hers is, but it's easy and we don't need a stove."

Craig nearly choked. "Wait, are you saying we could make some? In the room? By ourselves?"

Tweek took his phone from his pocket and tap against the screen. 

"Yes, we can, if we have everything," he told him. "Um, let me see..."

Craig walked closer, trying to read over Tweek's shoulder. He raised his eyebrows as he watched Tweek scroll through the note app filled with links. Most of them seemed to be from recipe sites, but a few were news articles with the words 'aliens' or 'UFO' in the URL.

Craig tucked that information away for later when they were making truffles. It was always nice to find another believer to chat with.

After a few seconds, Tweek noticed Craig looking over his shoulder and jumped back.

"I-I like to bake," he stammered.

"I can see that," Craig replied. "So can you find the recipe?"

Tweek nodded, looking back at his phone. "It's here; I know it is. I asked Mom if she would let me make some to sell at the cafe, but she said...nevermind. Doesn't matter...oh! Here it is."

"What do we need?"

"Um, butter, chocolate, cocoa powder, and rum, but we aren't allowed alcohol in The Lofts." Tweek scanned down the recipe. "Oh, and a microwave-safe bowl, spoons, and a pan to put them on."

"That's it?" Craig blinked. "Really?"

Tweek nodded. "For this recipe, yes."

"Fuck yeah! Let's make it." Craig grabbed his coat. "I'm going to run to the store; text me the list."

Tweek opened his mouth then shut it, before chuckling once. 

"Can we do next week, when we're off? I spent all day baking sweet rolls and if I have to look at another measuring cup, I'm going to throw it out the window." Tweek flopped down on to the couch.

Craig relented, shrugging off his coat. Craig didn't have a job like Tweek. Scholarships paved his way through college and he worked on the weekends with Clyde at a storehouse, unloading boxes only to have some extra spending cash. 

He honestly wasn't sure how Tweek managed to pull it all off.

* * *

"Got a boyfriend yet?" Trisha asked, pressing her face a little too close to the webcam. 

Craig rolled his eyes, waiting to see if his mom or dad would reprimand his sister for the invasive comment, but neither did.

In fact, his parents leaned closer from the sides. Craig instinctively leaned back.

"No, I don't. I'm busy, you know, studying, making a career, blazing trails and shit," he replied in a deadpan.

Trish deflated a little bit, moving back. "Seriously? You're going to live alone forever at this rate."

This time their parents snapped her name, making her flinch in embarrassment.

"I won't be alone," Craig corrected. "I'll have Stripe and Clyde living on my couch." For emphasis, Craig plucked Stripe up from beside him on the couch and held him up to the webcam. 

Stripe's nose filled the small screen showing Craig's side of the call. Trisha rolled her eyes, scooting away to let their parents take over.

"Ignore your sister. She just wants to see you happy," his mom told him, as if the question hadn't been on the tip of her tongue as well. 

Craig lowered Stripe to his lap to stroke his back.

"She does have a point though." His dad nodded, crossing his arms over his front. "Do you need help finding someone?"

His mom's eyes flashed. "Oh, yes! There is this wonderful young man who moved back to town and is going to our church. He's not gay. He's bisexual, but you said that doesn't matter. He's very nice. I think you'd like each other."

"Yeah, he's the Marsh's son. You remember him, don't you? You were friends back before they moved, I think. When you come down for spring break, we'll make sure to reintroduce you." His dad put his arm around his mom's shoulder. "You will be fast friends all over again."

Craig wanted to slap the laptop shut and end the call. 

Of course, he remembered Stan Marsh. They dated in secret for a month before Craig dumped Stan like an old diaper down the trash chute. He was cute, had nice arms for cuddling, but Craig couldn't stand his nihilism in such large doses.

"Yeah, I'm following him on Twitter. I think he's in a relationship," Craig lied, hoping his parents weren't tech-savvy enough to use Twitter. 

His mom's face fell into a frown. "Oh, is he? Well, that's too bad. You two were such good friends in high school."

_No, we were both desperate, and he was in the closet,_ Craig thought to himself.

"Yeeeeah, so, uh, I'm going to try and make truff--"

The door to the room swung open and slammed against the wall. Craig raised his head to see Tweek storm in. He still had on the nice slacks Craig saw him leave in, but the sweater Tweek's parents gifted their son was gone, leaving Tweek in only a thin undershirt.

His face was red, and not just from the December cold. He didn't see Craig as he held the heels of his hands to his eyes and choked on a sob.

Pursing his lips, he slowly started to rise.

"Tweek?"

Tweek jerked and looked towards him, eyes wide and red. The surprise wore off quickly, replaced by something like embarrassment. 

"Sorry," Tweek croaked, bolting towards his room.

"Craig?" His dad asked. "Everything alright."

Craig looked down at them. "Um, I don't think so. My roommate just came in. It looked like he was crying." Craig chewed his lip a moment then said, "Actually, I think I should go. I'll call you back later."

Before his parents could reply, Craig shut the laptop lid.

* * *

Craig rapped his knuckles against the door. "Tweek? Are you ok?"

"Yeah," Tweek sniffed, "I'm just fine. Go back to whatever you were doing."

Craig pursed his lips. Tweek's personal life wasn't his business. He should go back to his room and sit quietly, but his gut twisted the first step he took. Stripe squeaked, crawling onto Craig's foot.

"Good idea," he whispered to his pet as he stooped down to pick him up. Louder, he announced, "Tweek, I'm coming in."

"What? No!" Tweek protested, but he had already twisted the doorknob.

Craig had never been in Tweek's room. It was chaos: books stacked on the desk with mugs on top of the textbook towers; feathers, leaves, and sticks were tacked to the wall; a jar filled with small rocks, buttons, and misshapen pieces of plastic sat on the window still; sheets of colored cellophane had been tapped to the window, bathing the room in a stain glass-like glow of reds, blues, and greens.

The image of a crow's nest came to Craig's mind, filled with knick-knacks and shinies.

Tweek squeaked, pressing himself into the corner of his bed. His face was only pink-ish now, but the whites of his eyes still glowed with the red aftermath of a hard cry.

"What are you doing? Get-get out!" Tweek ordered. His voice cracked.

Craig picked his way through the clothing on the floor to the bed. The bed sunk under his weight.

"Here, take Stripe. He'll help you feel better." Craig held him out. Tweek eyed Stripe then Craig before his slow, shaky hands raised up to pull Stripe to his chest.

Stripe didn't struggle. He was old and used to being cuddled, so he settled down against Tweek, shutting his eyes and breathing slowly. The tightness in Tweek's shoulders waned away. A soft smile grew on his lips.

"See? I told you." Craig put a hand on Tweek's knee. "Stripe makes everything better."

Tweek nodded. "Yeah. Thank you." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. "Sorry for interrupting you. Shit when down with my parents."

"Oh, no, it's fine." Craig couldn't help but notice Tweek hadn't objected to him touching his knee. "I'm the one who's sorry about your parents."

Tweek scoffed. "They're assholes." He sighed, nervously chewed his lip, then asked, "Can I...talk to you about it? Talking about feelings is healthy for you. Normally, I'd call my therapist, but I don't want to bug him on his Christmas Eve. If you don't want it, that's fine. I have a journal around some--"

Tweek twisted around to search as Craig turned so one leg rested on the bed.

"No, you can talk to me about it." Craig smiled encouragingly. "Both Stripe and I are excellent listeners."

Tweek breathed a laugh. "Well, if both of you are, then that'll help twice as much." He petted Stripe as he continued, "My parents have a bad habit of using me to prove how 'woke' and 'socially progressive' they are. They always bring up personal stuff at parties." 

Tweek pitched down his voice to mocked, "'Oh? That's our son, Tweek. He's gay, you know. We are very loving of his life choices.'" Next, he pitched his voice higher. "Tweek, our son, has ADHD and an anxiety disorder, but we don't care about that. We love him and all his flaws!'"

Craig couldn't help but snort at the impressions. "Wow, really? They're like that?"

"Yes!" Tweek threw a hand up. "They even got _upset_ when I started taking medication. They said it made me 'less quirky,' because, I guess, being an anxious mess and not being able to focus are such cute quirks."

He dropped his hand limply to his side. "The whole Christmas party they dragged me to, they walked me around like I was so poodle at a dog show, showing off how they didn't care about me being gay or having a mental illness or being neurodivergent, all for social points with their friends. When I told them it was bugging me and for them to stop, they accused _me_ of being ungrateful for their support."

Tweek balled his hand into a fist. "It pissed me off, so I went to leave, and Dad tried to stop me. We got into a fight in front of all those people, and I stormed off."

Craig moved his hand from Tweek's knee to his fist, forcing his fingers apart before he hurt himself.

"I'm sorry that happened to you," Craig replied honestly.

He couldn't relate. It would be a lie to say his parents didn't care he was gay. There was an adjustment period of a few months where his dad would periodically ask if maybe Craig was wrong and he was bi or if it was all a phase and Craig really did like girls, but once that faded, his parents were nothing but supportive. 

Tweek's lips twitched up. "It's ok. I'm not looking forward to dealing with them at work. Maybe I'll find another job or see if there is a scholarship available that will help cover costs so I can still live here. I'm sick of them being like this all the time."

"The offices all open back up on the second. I'll go with you to look if you want, or I can help you find some online. I think you need a break from work for a semester," Craig offered.

Stripe turned around in Tweek's grasp, startling him. Craig chuckled before hopping off the bed.

"You know what we need right now? Truffles." Craig held out his hand. "Want to make some with me?"

Tweek stared at Craig's hand for a long time before nodding and setting his hand in Craig's. 

"Let's go make some truffles."

* * *

On News Years Eve, Craig leaned against Tweek's side as they sat on the couch watching a rising pop star sing a song neither of them knew on the TV. He faked a yawn and set his arm around him. Tweek chuckled and snuggled against him. 

A plate of truffles sat half-eaten on a chair. The truffles weren't pretty to look at. Without an ice cream scoop to make nice, even balls, they had to resort to rolling the truffles with their hands. Their body heat melted off the butter mixture to their skin, resulting in truffles that were more often an oval shape than a circle and chocolatey palms.

But they tasted good, so neither of them minded.

Craig rubbed his eyes. 

"Tired?" Tweek asked. "We still have an hour before the ball drops."

"No, not at all," Craig replied around a real yawn. Tweek chuckled. Since Christmas Eve, Tweek had seemed less anxious and twitchy. Telling off his parents had been extremely cathartic for Tweek, or that's what his therapist told him when he called to ask if he did the right then on the twenty-seventh. 

On the twenty-eight, Tweek's parents came by The Lofts. Tweek begrudgingly let them in to talk. Craig listened in from his bedroom, fully prepared to burst out and throw down with a two forty-something year old adults.

After nearly an hour of stiff, passive-aggressive talk, the Tweaks finally came to an agreement. Tweek wouldn't have to work all semester. His parents would pay for his board at The Lofts on the condition that Tweek attend several family get-togethers planned for later in the spring. Tweek only agreed to that if his parents promised not to tote him around all the family events showing him off like a prized socially-conscious pig at the fair.

When all was said and done, the Tweaks hugged and Mr. and Mrs. Tweak left. The moment the door shut, Tweek groaned, dragging his hands down his face. His expression looked more exasperated and annoyed than angry, which Craig couldn't help but find pretty cute all considered. 

On the twenty-ninth, Craig suavey asked Tweek on a date. He leaned against the table while Tweek fixed his morning coffee, only to have the folding table fall out from under him. 

When Tweek bed down to ask if he was alright, Craig snatched a chance to dramatically proclaim, "Alas, I am not. For you see I am but a poor, rich man here in these God loved years of the nineteen-tens whose wife has suffered a terrible fate. In my grief, only the comforting arms of my handsome blond roommate will heal my broken, gay heart." Craig punctuated his flirt with a wink.

Tweek laughed so hard he nearly spilled his coffee. Even before Tweek replied, Craig knew he got himself a date.

The newscasters on TV introduced the next singer as Tweek pulled his knees under him. Craig rubbed circles into his shoulder. There were probably rules about romantic partners sharing a room, but what the administration didn't know wouldn't hurt them.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's the truffle recipe if you'd like it.](https://www.alsothecrumbsplease.com/easy-chocolate-rum-truffles/)   
[ My writing tumblr](https://www.uas-fics.tumblr.com)


End file.
